Temple U
by SushiLion
Summary: Jack sends Hannibal and Will on a little college mission. May reach possible 'M' rating. Hannigram.
1. Chapter 1

Hannibal and Will placed their bags just inside the door of Hannibal's new temporary flat.

"Well, it seems Jack at least let me have a decent kitchen," Hannibal said as he did a walkthrough.

"At least he let you get a place. I'm dreading going to the dorms." Will checked his watch. "Move-in isn't for another hour and a half yet, though." He plopped down on the couch just inside the door.

"Well, we both know you'd fill the role of a student better than I would. I'm sure Jack was just looking out for our interests."

"Yeah, when has that ever happened before?"  
Hannibal shrugged out of his jacket and placed it on the back of the couch next to Will. "At least you don't have to go back to teaching. The last time I was in front of a class was, ooooh, I honestly can't remember." He sat down next to him, "So what's the profile we're looking for again?"

"Jack suspects that the recent downtown killings are done by one of the students here. Most likely a military returnee, but that's just a hunch."

"Probably male, knowing the usual tendencies?"

"Yup." Will stood and grabbed one of his smaller bags from the pile, "Mind if I borrow your shower for a bit? Train rides never leave me feeling rather clean."

"Go right ahead."

As Will was showering, Hannibal began unpacking. He checked the fridge to see it empty.

"Guess I need to go shopping…."

As the cab pulled up to the curb all Will could do was stare. He even double checked the address to be sure. And it was right.

Jack had put him in a frat house.

"Shit," he mumbled under his breath. He paid the cabbie and carried his bags to the door.

The inside was much cleaner than he expected, but it would certainly be destroyed in a few days.

Will jumped a little at the big paw of a hand clasping onto his shoulder, "You look a little old to be here, too." He turned to see a grizzled square jaw just above eye height. He looked up.

"I guess we're in this together."

"The name's Stevens. Well, Mac. Sorry, just EAS'd from the Corps, not used to the first name thing yet." He stuck out his hand.

Will shook it, "I'm Will, Will Graham."

They chatted and walked around the house for a bit. They found a room with only two rooms in the corner of the house on the first floor. On the far wall were the beds with a record player sitting between them. There were two battered desks opposite them. Old band and college posters plastered the walls.

"Well," Will exhaled, "guess it _could_ be worse."

"Don't worry, Will. If they wanna do any of that stupid frat shit, I got you." Mac threw his bags on the bed on the right and began unpacking.

_My luck can't be that good, _Will thought._ Besides, he said he just got out. The killings started last year, he can't be the target. Well, maybe. Don't make quick conclusions, Will._

As Mac stripped down to his jeans and wife beater, Will noticed he still had the distinctive hand and neck tan that comes from wearing sleeves rolled down in the field. Possibly a Middle East deployment.

_Nah. He's not the guy._

Will was about to lay down when he figured he should probably wash the sheets first.


	2. Chapter 2

The unruly group of teenagers and twenty-somethings wasn't as bad as Will initially made them out to be. Most were tolerable; there were only two or three that he really needed to avoid. Mac was right. The first night when everyone was still rolling in, they gave the two of them a little trouble. Mac quickly set things straight with a few words accompanied by the shakes of his mango sized fist, and all was clear.

Mac got along with them better than Will did, though. There's no underestimating the immaturity of a U.S. Marine….

The first week was orientation, or "initiation" for the freshmen, with the upperclassmen coming up with all sorts of things that Will was sure counted as hazing in one form or another. Will just stayed in his room catching up on some reading he had forgotten about. He would stray out and roam around campus looking for any suspicious activity, but found nothing out of the ordinary for a college in Philly.

The one that did strike him as odd was the leader of the Fraternity, mainly because he had only seen him once, when they first moved in. He was a medium, scrawny built 22 year old. He kept his deep black hair in a light shave, his light green eyes giving a severe contrast to his all-around grunge look. The rest of the frat members were jocks, except for two so called "geeks" here and there.

He was lounging on his bed reading a book on salmon flies when Mac barged through the door. Even on the opposite side of the room, Will could smell the Fireball on his breath.

"Eh, Ey Will. We got a good party goin' in here! You outta come and join us!"

"No thanks, Mac. Parties aren't really my thing…" Will had heard the music going all night, accompanied with the shrieks of some most likely under-aged female students. He knew there had to be at least one keg, so he knew he could distract himself a little if need be.

"C'mon man, I got a chickie out here lookin' real fiiine. I'm sure she'd be down for you, bro."

It had been a while. Besides, if he was to blend in, he'd have to go to at least one party.

"Alright, Mac. I'll be right out."

Mac turned and closed the door slightly, "Hey Y'all! Will's comin'!"

Will hit a solid wall of sound and overall sensory overload when he came out of his room. The lights were down and fluorescent and black lights struck streams of paint covered bodies across the room. As most college parties, you could hardly move through the crowd.

In a few seconds, he found himself being ushered through the people by what seemed like half of the football team.

"Eyyy, Willyyyy!" Will looked up to see the shaved head fiend on the top of the balcony. "It's time for you to make a stand!"

Wait, what? Stand? Will looked in front of him to see the keg in a barrel of ice. He let out a yelp as his feet were swept out from under him and he grabbed the edge of the keg instinctively. He only had a few seconds to second guess himself when his face was dropped closer to the nozzle.

The beer was a cheap lager, unsurprisingly, and after a good thirty second chug, Will was dropped back on his feet and left to stumble into the crowd as the next unwilling victim was selected.

He shuffled and swerved people when he felt a finger prod him in the chest. "Hey, cutie? Who are you?"

In front of him stood a long-legged brunette. She wore a skimpy tank top and shorts, neon paint like tiger stripes across her body, with two aptly placed hand prints on her breasts.

"I, ah, I'm Will."

"What about we go and hit the dance floor, Will." She gave him a wink and grabbed his wrist, leading him deeper into the pit of inebriated students.

Hannibal finished packing the meat into the small freezer on top of his fridge and collapsed onto his sofa. The day had been tedious enough with faculty meetings and lesson planning, he really didn't enjoy having to deal with a lack of freezer space. He had to dispose of some of his less generous cuts in lieu of having enough room for additions.

He glanced at the books on his end table, all tabbed and dog-eared for future lessons. He debated going and meeting Will and seeing how things were going, but he cast that from his mind when he realized it was 11:32 at night and Will would most likely be asleep.

He imagined him, all strewn and sweaty in his bed, restless in his sleep. He felt his trousers tighten.

Hannibal shook his head at the thought and decided to go for a bit of a walk downtown.

Will woke up with a crick in his back and a pounding in his head. He eased his eyes opened and winced at the impeding sunlight from the windows. Will sat up, spilling the bottle of whiskey that was somehow precariously held in his hand as he slept. He looked down to see himself wearing only his boxers, slightly askew, and Sigma Kappa Phi written on his stomach.

"Jesus," he mumbled. He stood and regained his balance before walking to the corner of the room to retrieve his jeans. He pulled them on and felt something bulky in the front pocket.

After finding a small bag of glorious white powder, will stumbled hurriedly to the bathroom, and lo and behold there was the white just below his nose on his scruffy beard.

"Shit. The fuck else did I do?" Will wound his way back to his room and found the brunette passed out in his bed, covered only in his duvet. His phone was sitting on his desk. He checked it for the time. 1246. Damnit, I was supposed to meet Hannibal for breakfast.

Sunday breakfast had become something of a ritual between Will and Hannibal. Will would either go over to Hannibal's house and he would cook something that Will almost always found to elegant for breakfast, or they would go to various restaurants that Will would choose, where Hannibal always seemed to frown at the eggs.

His phone had three missed calls. Will dialed Hannibal's number and let his stomach sink as the dial tone went on.

"Will?"

"Hey Hannibal.."

"Where have you been? Skipping an arrangement is rude and not very like you, you know."

"I know. There was a really harsh party last night, and I can't remember too much and I think I might've done cocaine…."

"Wha- Look, just come over and have something to eat, okay?"

"I'll be over in a few."


	3. Chapter 3

Hannibal glanced at the meager eggs and hash browns on the warming tray. He felt bad that he wasn't cooking as elaborately for Will as he was fond of, but he hadn't left him with much of a choice. He browned the freshly made sausage in the pan when Will knocked on the door.

"It's open," Hannibal called.

Will eased the door opened and collapsed onto Hannibal's couch. "I am sooo sorry," he mumbled into the throw pillow. "I feel awful."

"You look it too." Hannibal placed two plates on the small breakfast bar. "You need something to eat. The grease will help with the hangover."

Will shuffled to the stool and sat down. He was too ashamed to make eye contact with Hannibal. He knew how he abhorred the rude. A coffee mug appeared in front of his plate, "It's black. Drink up."

Will slurped some of the coffee. Hannibal just stared him down. "You can't let this role get to you, Will. If you spiral down into a college boy stupor, we'll never solve this case."

Will just shrugged, the pounding in his head too great to weave a witty response back that would prove Hannibal otherwise. There were a few other thoughts swimming around in his brain that he found more important as well.

Will ate as Hannibal looked on, shuffling his hash browns around on his plate. He looked at Will as he leaned on the island counter. Hannibal noted that he seemed to have the appearance of a scolded puppy. "I forgive you Will. It's just breakfast."

"It's never just breakfast," Will mumbled into his coffee.

"Hmm?"

"It's never just breakfast, is it? I mean, yeah, we talk about cases and you talk about me and all the psychology stuff, but let's cut to the chase, Hannibal, we're both looking to get something out of this."

"Do….elaborate," Hannibal drew out his words, making sure he didn't sound too off-putting.

"Last night, at this party, there was a young woman, prime of her life, downright beautiful. I had always been fond of Alana, but let's face it, there's no interest there from the other end. We both know it. And so I was dancing with this girl, the awful club-type dancing lacking in elegance and grace. To be honest, I can't remember much after that, but in that moment, I remember, I thought of you. I thought, "Oh, how horrible would Hannibal view this." And I thought about how if it were you and me, it would be slow, and elegant. Passionate. I just…." Will cut his thoughts short. "I'm sorry Hannibal. I can't do this anymore. If we don't face this I'll be torn apart."

Will looked up, and Hannibal's heart sunk at the sight of tears clouding his vision.

"Will," he exhaled. "You need not cry. You should never be ashamed for what you feel." Hannibal leaned over the counter and ran a hand along Will's cheek. Will shuddered at the touch, his eyes shutting and tears falling. Hannibal wiped them away with his thumb. "You are so concerned of a negative reaction from me, that you've never even contemplated the opposite, aren't you? What did you expect me to say, Will?"

Will stuttered before he was able to speak. "I-I'm not sure. I knew you wouldn't scream; I've never heard you scream. I thought of a quiet anger behind your eyes."

Hannibal smiled and leaned back on the island again. He crossed his arms as he spoke, "And now, seeing my actions, what do you think?"

Will looked at him and smirked, wiping his glasses on his shirt, "I think last night's drugs are still lingering."

Hannibal chuckled and collected the plates, "Don't worry, Will. I'll bring you back to reality."


	4. Chapter 4

Will lay on Hannibal's black satin sheets, naked except for a blue scrap of fabric serving as a blindfold. The ends of his brown curls stuck to his skin, sweat made his body glisten. He opened his eyes to the deep blue darkness, Hannibal's voice pooling in his ear, "Now Will, for you to affirm your grasp of reality, you must rely on senses that are not readily used."

Will heard Hannibal's bare feet padding across the hardwood floor. "I know how you rely on your sight, your perception." The edge of the bed dipped near Will's right foot.

"For instance, you heard me walk across the floor." Hannibal smirked to himself, "Even though you are unable to see, your face followed me as I moved, as if you were watching."

Hannibal exhaled, "Now, what of your other senses?"

Will inhaled. He could smell Hannibal. He never wore any distinctive cologne, at least not that he knew of. It was the natural scent of him that he would always get a faint sense of when he would stand near him. Beneath that was the faint smell of cherry blossom, either in the room or from a window. But Will felt no breeze.

"Good Will, smell. Not the strongest of senses, for most, but it is known to bring back more vivid memories than sight has."

Will felt the bed divot on either side of him, and Hannibal's scent grew stronger, "How about touch?" His skin shivered under the two smooth fingertips running over his stomach. Hannibal's hand drifted lower, but not low enough.

Hannibal smiled as Will let out a moan, "Oh, you didn't think I would be that kind, did you?" With that, Hannibal laid on top of Will, his tongue working on the side of his neck, hands running down his sides. Will raised his chin and Hannibal wound his way to his chest, placing small kisses and nipping at his skin ever so slightly, leaving small red pinches behind. Will hooked his right ankle around Hannibal's leg and wrapped his arms around his shoulders, his left leg raising up beside him. Hannibal traced his collarbone, his hands grasping onto Will's hips, forcing them into the mattress. "Don't be too eager, now," Hannibal whispered. He pressed his face against Will's and whispered into his ear, "We still have one more."

Hannibal pressed his lips harshly to Will's, biting down on his lower lip when he pulled away. A metallic taste seeped onto Will's tongue. He gasped when he felt Hannibal's lips working lower on his stomach. Will bucked his hips when he felt the warmth surround him.

"Will…."

"H-Hannibal…."

"Will. Will, you need to get up, we have class."

Will's eyes snapped open. He was wrapped in black sheets in Hannibal's bedroom. The older man was towering over him, securing his cufflinks. "I have to be in to teach in an hour, and I'm sure you have a morning class of some sort."

Will turned to look at the clock on the side table. 8:02 blared back at him. "Yeah. Yeah, I do." He swung his legs over the edge of the bed as Hannibal walked out of the room. Had that all really been just a dream? Then again, he _was_ there the whole night. Will got up and trudged to the shower, not noticing the blue silk fabric that had fallen off the end of the bed when he stood up.


End file.
